Feminism is an issue that I think vintage wearers must confront from time to time, seeing as our clothes quite obviously reference more repressive or tumultuous times for women. Looking like a museum piece has the side effect of people assuming you have some sort of comment on the era you “come from”, and so it is that we are brought into conversations of this nature.

People often like to draw my attention to the irony of being a feminist dressed like a 1950s housewife. More frequently, I’m misread as conservative, as people mistake my aesthetic nostalgia for a moral nostalgia. Some people have trouble seeing vintage clothes without imagining the vintage world.

The truth is that most of us wear the clothes, but not the attitudes. In fact, although superficially “conservative”, the vintage community seems to have produced an unusually high number of kickass feminists, radicals and unorthodox thinkers.

Independent dressing attracts independent men and women. Vintage-wearers aren’t exactly fashionable in their knee-length skirts and hats, but I think that coming to terms with being unfashionable takes a great deal of strength. Choosing to forego fashion trends may seem trivial, but I see it as a form of resistance.

In my experience it’s those women and girls with the confidence to break away from … cultural norms that are more likely to demonstrate an independent spirit, and the intelligence to deconstruct what they see presented to them as “ideal”.

I don’t mean to suggest that dressing in vintage frocks is in itself an inherently feminist act, because of course it is the strength of one’s conviction rather than one’s wardrobe that makes a feminist; but I do want to suggest that feminism is particularly relevant to the vintage subculture, and that having the confidence to develop one’s own style in opposition to what is prescribed by the fashion industry and/or the media does indicate some sort of radical thought.

I feel like one radical act breeds another, so once one comes to reject mainstream standards of beauty, one is probably a lot more likely to reject other things too, like patriarchy, for instance – cue feminism.

Of course this isn’t to privilege vintage styles over any other styles. The basic feminist doctrine of choice dictates that one should act on one’s own whims, so a feminist can just as easily be found in a mini-skirt or denim shorts as in a 1940s tea frock or tweed breeches.

Potential Feminist

Also a Potential Feminist

The problem surrounding modern fashions (described by Gemma and Lena as “hypersexualised”) is perhaps the sense of coercion, by which I mean that a lot of women may feel like they don’t have free license to experiment, or deviate from the trends. This isn’t really a problem created by the particular fashions, but more by mainstream media/etc, although I suppose because the styles themselves channel a level of sensuality that may be unnatural or uncomfortable to some girls, the problem is sort of exacerbated.

Vintage has its problems too – the male gaze has always been around, so the clothes don’t really sidestep any accusations of objectification and such. The difference, as I see it, is probably that a higher proportion of those who dress in vintage have made a very conscious choice to do so, and there’s also therefore a higher chance they’re well-equipped to deal with misogyny.

Although wearing vintage is not inherently feminist, I think it can easily, and often does, produce feminists – and I love that. Nevertheless, there are a lot of ways to rebel, and wearing vintage is just one of them. That independent spirit that makes a feminist can manifest itself in endlessly unique and equally valid ways.

Having victory rolls is hardly a prerequisite for feminism, but they can top off the fabulous vintage look of your local kickass feminist who’s putting up her middle finger to patriarchy.